Dude, I'm Telling You, It's Like A Horror Movie
by BrazilianMafioso
Summary: Alfred feels like the shootings at Pleasant Valley were his fault. To make it up to himself, he vows to make sure the protection of Central High is a success. But eventually, he realizes there's something much worse than the shootings going on there.


**I do not own ****Axis Powers Hetalia**** or ****After****. Hetalia's owned by the guy who owns it *totally knows how to spell his name*, and After was written by Francine Prose.**

Alfred felt tingly that day. Not the good kind of tingly. The bad kind of tingly that makes you know that something is going to happen. The bad kind of tingly that tells you, "Dude, some serious shit is goin' down." His stomach was churning, and his eyes were irritated and itchy. He knew what this usually meant.

And he desperately hoped, no, _prayed_, it didn't happen. Prayed that a miracle would occur and it would be prevented.

Unfortunately, his prayer wasn't answered that day.

He was delivering some documents when it happened.

Walking briskly down the halls of the White House, Alfred whistled an empty tune. He was trying to stay happy and positive, but he couldn't. He knew what was going to happen shortly.

The first shot.

His heart started hurting with pain and sadness.

The second shot.

His legs felt weak and he could no longer support himself.

The third shot.

By now, he was screaming in agony.

Yes, people were killed every day in America. He had gotten used to the continuous jabs of pain, but he could never get used to the school shootings.

The shootings of innocent children.

It hurt him as much as any war did.

"Mr. Jones! Are you all right?"

"Jones! What's wrong?"

"Move!" Everyone jumped at the figure that had just appeared out of nowhere. A boy who looked just like Alfred pushed them all out of the way. He kneeled next to him and placed Alfred's head on his lap. "Al! Can you hear me?"

Alfred blinked. "M-Mattie?" He cringed in pain.

"Shh. Don't push yourself," Matthew said soothingly. "I'm going to call Arthur. Just hold on until then."

Tears were welling in Alfred's eyes. "H-Help me, Mattie…"

Matthew hugged his brother tightly. "It's okay, I'm here. What do you need?"

"They're killin' each other, Mattie. It hurts…"

He blinked. "Who's killing each other?"

Alfred began to feel faint. All the voices he heard sounded like they were underwater. "The kids… They're killing everyone… But why… Pleasant Valley was so nice before…"

Matthew felt all the blood rush from his face as he turned to the rest of the crowd in the hallway. "Quick! Someone call the police force near 'Pleasant Valley!'"

After a few moments of hesitation, a woman nodded and immediately rushed to her office to call.

Alfred was crying now.

And Matthew couldn't bear to see his brother like this. "Al, it's not your fault."

But he wasn't crying because he thought it was his fault. He was crying because he hadn't tried to stop it. He hadn't done anything.

Nothing at all.

A few hours later, Alfred was a crying and shivering mass covered in a light blue blanket. He sat with his knees tucked next to his chest and his chin on his knees, while Matthew sat next to him, one hand rubbing Alfred's back reassuringly and the other checking his watch constantly.

The door burst open, and a distraught Englishman barged through.

"Where the blooming hell is he?"

Matthew winced at the loud noise the door made, and pointed next to him.

Arthur instantly walked over and knelt down, so that he was at Alfred's level, and hugged the American close to his chest.

"Ig-hic-Iggy, it-hic-hurts…"

Tears flowed freely down Alfred's face, and it broke Arthur's heart. He closed his eyes and placed his head on Alfred's.

"I know, my boy. I know."

**~O~o~O~**

Eleven people had been killed. Five students, three teachers, and, of course, the three suicides of the killers themselves. Then, there had been fourteen critically wounded students. It pained him that these students were meant to have died, yet it gave him some sort of reprieve that they had only been injured.

As Matthew read over the casualties, his heart fell. It didn't even happen in his country, and he was feeling pain.

It had happed at Pleasant Valley High School. _Pleasant _Valley. Ironic, wasn't it? If it weren't so serious, he could have laughed.

The killers were some kids you might have passed on the street and not have given them a second thought. They were virtually unnoticeable.

But they were completely noticeable that day. How could they not have been?

Arthur had succeeded in calming down Alfred to the point where he could speak coherently.

But all he kept saying was: "Damn it. I could have done something. I could have done something. I could have done something…"

It pained all of them. Alfred was a bounding ball of energy and optimism. To be reduced to this…

"There was nothing you could have done."

"Yes… Yes, there was. I knew this was going to happen. I could have stopped it."

Arthur put his hands on Alfred's shoulders. "You bleeding barmy git! There. Was. Nothing! It was out of your hands! What would you have done? Run all the bloody way to that school in a few short hours?"

Alfred looked down dejectedly. "I could have called. Told them about it."

It was silent for a few minutes.

"But it was a hunch. What if it had been wrong?" Matthew added thoughtfully.

"But it wasn't wrong! It was right! Dead. Fucking. Right!" Alfred threw Arthur's hands off his shoulders, pushed past his brother, and stormed out of the room.

"A-Arthur…"

"Yes, lad, I know. Just leave him be." Arthur walked out of the room as well, leaving Matthew all alone.

**A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A**

By the time Tom Bishop had gotten the phone call from his dad, almost every other student in the class had a phone pressed up against his or her ear.

They weren't supposed to have cell phones unless they had a note from their parents, but apparently that didn't count right now.

"Tomster! Are you okay?"

He made a face. "Don't call me that. And why wouldn't I be okay? What's the matter with you? I'm in math class."

"… I thought you hated math," his dad said from the other side of the phone.

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yeah, so what?"

"So what's the matter with me interrupting?"

He sighed. "Fine, what's up?"

His dad's voice started to sound somewhat strained. "I've got some really bad news. Some crazy kids shot up the gym at Pleasant Valley and killed a bunch of people."

This? This was what everyone had been called about? Something they could have seen on the news before they went to bed?

"Oh man," Tom said, making no effort to show any genuine concern in his voice. "That _is _ really bad. But, Dad… That… That's fifty miles away. I'm in math class. What does that have to do with me?"

"I don't know…" His dad sighed. "Sorry, I got worried and just wanted to make sure you were okay…"

When Tom got home later that day, the story was on the news. He watched the entire time, without complaint from his father about the amount of television he was watching.

Apparently, the killers had gone after the most popular, handsome, most good-looking, photogenic, and the jocks. These kids obviously had some kind of grudge.

It disturbed him to say the least.

**End of chapter**

***dies* Gosh…I don't think anyone's gonna read this =3= But yeah… This is what happens when I'm stuck in the Adirondack mountains, and I'm bored out of my mind at 2:42... In the morning. Obviously, I didn't edit this. So it's probably really bad. If anyone **_**does**_** read this and happens to review at the same time, just tell me what you liked or didn't like… If there's anything you didn't like, I'll gladly change it.**

**Ugh… I should be updating my other stories… Let's see… This one will be updated sporadically, meaning, when I feel like writing it, I'll write it. **

**This is going to be a Hetalia/After crossover. After is a really good, yet disturbing, book. I suggest it if you're looking for something interesting. But just a warning, it doesn't exactly have a completely happy ending…**

**So as I was reading the book, I kept thinking, "What if Alfred was here while it was happening?" And this story spawned itself in my mind. Feel free to read it, print it out, crumple it up and throw it in the garbage can, or read and review.**

**But just so you know. I like reviews. It lets me know that at least one person is reading this.**

**~Huggles**


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